


French Onion Soup

by MisconductandMimosas



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bigfoot is gay let me live, Cooking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 14:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18143570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisconductandMimosas/pseuds/MisconductandMimosas
Summary: "Get out of my kitchen, Aubrey. That goes for you too, Ned," Barclay called over his shoulder. "Get the hell away from my stove and out of this room. Leave whatever is in that pot there cause I think a hazmat team is going to have to come take it away.""Oh that's for certain. I don't know what it is but it most likely legally can't be put in a landfill," Duck confirmed.





	French Onion Soup

"Aubrey!" Barclay hollered. The magician in question skidded to a halt in front of him.

"What's up Big-" Aubrey saw his red face and quickly stuttered "B-big boss man?"

"His name begins with a B. You could have just pivoted right there," Duck said dryly. "B for Barclay. Right there. You almost had it."

"I panicked!" Aubrey hissed.

"Shocking."

"I was not gone for that long," Barclay interrupted two out of the three newest members of the Pine Guard. He pointed to the third member, who was currently making a mess over Barclay's prized stainless steel range. He had insisted to Mama that the lodge needed it and now Ned was letting an uncomfortably thick liquid boil over onto the surface of the hob. "Why'd you have to let him in my kitchen? I thought we'd talked about this."

"Duck took me to get French onion soup last weekend and now I want to recreate it!" Ned didn't bother even turning around as he answered the question but Barclay could clearly see him tense up. Duck even winced at his inclusion in Ned's excuse. Okay, Barclay could work with that.

Barclay squeezed the bridge of his nose. "You can't recreate Hubert's soup. It's a whole thing. You’ve lived in this town long enough, man, you should know this by now.” Barclay took in his now-messy countertops with ingredients for not just French onion soup but at least six others meals. He was already planning an order of attack to clean them up and hide his white truffle. How had Ned even found the white truffle? “I can give you my recipe if you-"

"Duck gave me the recipe. Well, he gave me a portion of the recipe. He refused to give me anything else."

Duck shrugged sheepishly, looking anywhere but Barclay. "My cable is out so, you know. I needed to watch something tonight so I figured watching Ned make soup was good enough entertain-"

"You have Hubert's French Onion soup recipe?" Barclay interrupted him, confused. He cocked his head to the side and looked at his boyfriend.

"You know, normally puppies do that with their heads but when you do it it's like-"

"Like a what, Aubrey," Barclay asked tightly, turning away from Duck, his shoulders raised.

"Like a cute puppy! Just like that!" Aubrey said quickly, voice definitely not squeaking.

"Get out of my kitchen, Aubrey. That goes for you too, Ned," Barclay called over his shoulder. "Get the hell away from my stove and out of this room. Leave whatever is in that pot there cause I think a hazmat team is going to have to come take it away."

"Oh that's for certain. I don't know what it is but it most likely legally can't be put in a landfill," Duck confirmed. He leaned against the counter and curiously looked up at Barclay.

"Yes, you can stay," Barclay answered the unasked question. "We're going to make you that soup."

"Really?" Barclay knew most of Duck's expressions by now. He had the beginnings of a smile but he mostly looked curious, like he needed more information before he let himself be even a little bit excited.

"Really." Barclay pointed to a stool next to the walk-in freezer. Duck went over to grab it, setting it close enough to the end of the counter to be in Barclay's line of sight but not in the way. "Now how about you explain to me why Ned ended up in my kitchen? Cause I have a feeling this comes back to you."

"Is that on account that he told you just now?"

Barclay splashed a little bit of whatever was still bubbling in Ned's pot towards Duck who quickly leaned back to avoid it.

"Well, we were up there last week, remember? You all went skiing and me and Ned went round to the Wolf Ember Grille so Ned could try it for the first time."

"He hadn't ever been?"

"No! Can you believe that?" Duck said like it was the biggest crime someone could commit in their small town.

"And you told Ned some of the recipe?"

"Well I just told him about the Amish gruyere. And the anise. It just sort of came out you know? Oh god-- yeah, just like that, I guess." Duck looked panicked but Barclay just shook his head with a smile. "Hubert wasn't too happy with me. I didn't tell Ned anything else though. That's why he's been wanting to try and figure it out for himself."

"You’re cute," Barclay told him.

"What? No I’m not. I mean- thank you?" Duck tried.

"Hubert probably wasn't angry about the soup, sweetheart. He probably gave you the recipe cause he was flirting with you."

Duck held his hands out in front of him. "No, no, I gave him a jump."

"A jump?" Barclay asked, distractedly. He sighed at the sight of one of his favorite pots gunked up with a liquid that might have been soup in a past life. He hefted it up with two hands and deposited the whole right into the kitchen's industrial trash can.

"Yeah, see, I was up there around '06 and he was stranded with his truck and the recipe was in exchange for a jump."

Barclay shook his head with a smile. "Duck, Wolf Ember Grille is a 24 hour joint— right by the highway junction. There’s never not people in there to give jumps."

"Now, you _are_ my boyfriend," Duck points out.

"I am aware."

"You have to say people flirt with me. To stroke my ego or whatever. Which is sweet but I don't think that was the case there."

"Actually, the fact that i'm your boyfriend means I'd get proper grumpy is someone was flirting with you right in front of me. Hubert isn't though. He's back in his kitchen up the mountain and I'm here with you. In my kitchen," Barclay added. "Making you the soup you love."

"So..." Duck let the word stretch out. "You want the recipe then?" He asked, the tiniest smirk finally coming up on his face. Barclay liked it. Normally Duck was either stoic or worried so Barclay would take anything above those two emotions.

"I'll make it for you whenever you want," he bargained.

"God but you are my favorite," Duck said quickly. "You know that, right? And it's not just because of the soup." Barclay opened up his mouth to respond but Duck kept on barreling forward. "It's the soup too-- I mean, don't get me wrong. Everything else you make is great too but well, you know, you've had the soup."

Barclay took a few steps away from the stove so he could give Duck a kiss. He pulled back just a little and wished he could run his fingers through Duck's hair but-- not in his kitchen, not before he was about to cook. He settled for giving Duck a little nuzzle, knowing that the rough scratch of his beard would have Duck giving him more of a smile. He was right even though Duck pushed him away as he laughed. Barclay would take it.

"It was first meal I ate when I got to Kepler," he admitted.

That caught Duck's attention and he stopped just as he was about to continue his spiel. Barclay waited politely as Duck's mouth was still open but nothing ended up coming out.

"I had just came into town down from the mountain. I was able to snag some ski equipment that had been in boxes waiting to be taken in to one of the resorts. I heard had talk of Amnesty Lodge and well, I was wary. I hadn't exactly been a poster child for our kind," Barclay told him. "I wasn't sure I'd be welcome."

He had almost sounded not sheepish as he referred to the days before his visit to Kepler became a permanent stay. They weren't something he was proud of but he reckoned that one day soon he'd be able to talk about them just as a matter-of-fact rather than something to be perpetually embarrassed by.

"I stopped by the grille in the bitter cold and I asked what was good. I think Hubert must have thought I was just kidding or making fun-- now of course I know he's known for the soup but he realized good and quick that I wasn't from around these parts and he set a crock in front of me almost immediately." Barclay took a deep breath. "It was amazing."

He felt Duck's touch, an arm around his waist, before he saw him. "Sounds like we're making some soup today."

"Just for us."

"Well of course. Can't have it getting back to Hubert that Amnesty makes near identical soup to his. There would be hell to pay."

"Exactly. You know that no one in this place knows how to keep a secret," Barclay tried to keep a straight face but he could feel Duck's smile as he laughed into Barclay's shoulder so he didn't try all that hard.

He nudged his boyfriend a little, not enough to make him move but just enough so Duck looked up at him. Barclay leaned down and kissed him. "You said something about Amish gruyere? And anise?"

Duck pushed himself up for a moment to give Barclay another kiss, this time on the cheek. "You're going to want to get a pad and pencil, partner. There's a lot more to it than that."


End file.
